


The Weight of Your Smile

by Piccolo_is_green



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-03 15:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11535375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piccolo_is_green/pseuds/Piccolo_is_green
Summary: They could not pinpoint the day their love changed, but it did, and they had to live with the fallout.Or,When Bulma gets trapped on a dying Planet Namek with Goku, it sets off a chain of events that will alter the course of both of their lives.Bulma/Goku. Divergent/Alternate Universe.





	1. It's You

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. 
> 
> First off, if you don't like the idea of Goku and Bulma getting together, this isn't the fic for you. Best to click away now.
> 
> Why did I write this fic? Because I love this pairing and it's probably one of the most challenging ones to write - I mean, most people say these two shouldn't be together. I started by using an old prompt table from Livejournal to help me brainstorm scenes - you can find them here: http://100-prompts.livejournal.com/692.html - an my intention was to write the entirety of a Gobul relationship in fifty prompts. Turns out I needed to use more, so I imagine this fic will end up using around 70 different prompts in total.
> 
> Originally this was going to be a one-shot, but this has grown too big! It's probably going to hit 18,000 words (current word count 15,400 - I thought I had finished the story but then decided I could add more), so I'll be posting chapters fairly regularly. For those that know my bad habits re updating, don't worry; I've already written the end, and that's always my biggest problem!

**Compliment**

He tries his best to compare the Bulma walking in front of him to the Bulma from his memories. It’s only been three years since he last saw her, but she seems so much _curvier_ than she used to be. He watches her hips sway, long legs bare under a short dress, and feels that _good_ feeling curl down to his crotch. Which would be fine if he wasn’t standing in the middle of the Tenkaichi Budokai marketplace, looking for dinner.

“Goku, where do you want to eat?”

She’s smiling at him now, blue eyes sparkling in the lamp light. He’s not used to looking down at her; she used to seem so tall, but now she’s tiny compared to him.

“Somewhere with lotsa food, I guess,” he says. “I’m really hungry.”

Bulma laughs. “You’re always hungry.” The rest of the group have gone back to the hotel restaurant because it’s _convenient_ (whatever that means), but he’s already been banned from there for causing a disturbance (he ate more food than he had money for). “This place looks good,” she points, and they stop in front of a place that reads _Yum Yum Soba_. “I’ll pay.”

It’s crowded inside, but Bulma asks for the manager and flashes once of her plastic cards, and suddenly there is a clear table at the back of the room. She sits beside him and orders three of everything, and then turns to face him, propping her chin up on her hand.

He doesn’t know what to make of the way she’s looking at him, like she’s never seen him before. He rolls his shoulders, and she smiles softly. “Sorry. I just can’t get over how grown up you look now. You’re not a little kid anymore, huh?” It sounds like a compliment.

“You look different too,” he replies. She grins.

“You mean my red lips?” she says, and he knows she’s teasing him. He opens his mouth to reply, but the first plate of food arrives, and he spends the rest of the night eating.

 

**Glass**

“To Goku and his new bride!” Yamcha says, grinning. She raises her glass, knocking it gently against the bottle of beer Krillin has been nursing, and does her best to smile. It’s more of a grimace, but she doesn’t care. The happy couple aren’t here on Kame Island, anyway. They’re off honeymooning at Mt Paozu, and it bothers her far more than it should.

“You gonna go visit them sometime?” Krillin asks.

“Probably not,” she replies. “Work is getting really busy, and I’ve already taken too much time off. Maybe next year.” It’s true, work is busy, but it’s equally true that she just doesn’t want to be anywhere near the married couple. There’s something about the whole situation that she finds off-putting.

“Did he ever tell you about Chi Chi?” she asks Krillin quietly, watching as Yamcha chugs back another beer. _Ugh_ , she’ll have to cut him off soon, or she’ll be holding his head over the toilet for half the night.

“No, but you heard him at the tournament. He didn’t even know what it was when he agreed to marry her. Still, he’s a lucky guy. She’s pretty hot.” He blushes, and she knows he didn’t mean to admit the last part.

“Oh yeah?” she teases, raising a brow. “You lusting after a married woman?”

“N-no!” He’s bright red now, and takes another sip of his beer. “Besides,” he adds, his face fading to a mottled pink. “You’re one to talk. I saw the way you looked at Goku.”

Now it’s her turn to blush. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snaps, her tone putting an end to the conversation for good.

 

**Nightmare**

It’s as if she’s entered into some fucked-up parallel universe. In a matter of hours she’s found out Goku has a kid, that Son is an alien, and that Earth is now under attack. “Tell me I’m dreaming,” she says, still staring in the direction where Piccolo flew off moments earlier. She can feel the adrenaline wearing off already, her fight or flight instincts being replaced with a cold sense of dread.

“You’re not dreaming,” Krillin says, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “Goku’s really dead.”

She blinks back the tears that threaten to fall, because crying isn’t going to change a thing. “Hey,” she says softly, putting a hand on Krillin’s shoulder. “We’re going to wish him back, just like we did when you died.” _And we’re going to put him straight back into battle_ , she thinks, feeling sick to her stomach.

Krillin nods, glancing back over his shoulder. “What do we do about the body?” he asks quietly, glancing back at the dead Saiyan. She holds the alien’s eyepiece in her hand, and a shiver runs up her spine. She should really examine the guy’s armour, but she can’t bring herself to get any closer to the corpse.

“Can you blow him up?” she asks Krillin quietly. “Like, incinerate him?”

“Yeah,” Krillin nods. “You should probably back away.”

“Okay.” The scientist in her says she should be grabbing a tissue sample from Raditz’ body, but even the thought of that causes bile to rise up her throat. She swallows it back and turns away as Krillin blasts the place, and the stink of burning flesh hits her nostrils.

She can’t stand to be here any longer. “Let’s go!” she calls, already climbing back in her plane.

 

**Puzzle**

Krillin and Roshi retire to bed early, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep until she finishes working on the scouter. Time drags on, and she gets lost in the flow of her work, stopping occasionally to fix herself another coffee or go to the bathroom.

She gets her second wind in the middle of the night, sometime around two in the morning. Suddenly all the pieces of the scouter seem to fit together in her mind, and she can _see_ exactly what she needs to do next in order to translate the damn language into something readable. The noise of the ocean crashing against the beach is so much louder at this time, the sound filling the room and then receding away, leaving her feeling hollow.

She sets up a connection between the scouter’s processing chip and her laptop, and begins to work on the translation. It’s essentially a puzzle, deciphering the code one syllable at a time until she has a translation that is rudimentary but sufficient. Her computer screen reads 4:53 when she’s done.

Gulls begin to call long before the sky grows light. It always amazes her that they _know_ when dawn will appear. She wishes she could hold the same conviction about the future – she would love some surety around what is to come – but Raditz’ appearance has made it more uncertain than ever. She puts the half-complete scouter down, standing and stretching her stiff back, and steps quietly through the house until she is out the door, her bare toes curling into the cold sand.

She watches the sky glow yellow, then orange, and finally a deep red as the sun peeks over the horizon. Tears blur her vision, rolling down her cheeks as she finally allows herself time to cry. Son Goku – her first true friend – is not alive to see this sunrise, and though she’ll wish him back in a year, her heart still breaks with the weight of that knowledge.

 

**Flat**

Goku is alive, but Yamcha is dead.

She’s filled with both grief and guilt. Greif for Yamcha, and guilt for feeling relieved that she, Goku, and the others, are still alive. Guilt because Yamcha only just died yesterday, but she can’t help admiring Goku’s sleeping face – bandages and all – while sitting beside his hospital pod.

Guilt, because she’d rather not risk her life travelling into space to find the Namekian dragonballs to wish Yamcha back, and what kind of girlfriend (well, ex-girlfriend, they were on a break) does that make her? She’s going, of course. She’s the only one who can pilot Kami’s old ship. But the fact that she really doesn’t want to go is enough to make her feel guilty about her lack of loyalty to her first love.

“Bulma?”

“Hmm?” She looks down and finds Goku staring back at her. It’s late; Gohan and Krillin have been discharged, and they’re the only ones left in the room.

“Why are you hangin’ around here for? You should go home.” He blinks at her slowly, looking so forlorn in his medical pod that she can’t help but smile.

“Chi Chi took Gohan home an hour ago. You were asleep. Plus I wanted to say goodbye, before I head to Namek. I don’t think I’ll have time to stop in again before I go.”

His dark eyes close, long lashes brushing against his cheeks, and a small smile graces his lips for a moment. “Thank you for taking Gohan with you. I know he’s in good hands.”

She doesn’t bother voicing her doubts to Goku. Gohan is a good kid, but he’s _five_ , and she has no idea how to take care of little ones.

“You’re welcome,” she says instead. She reaches out, gently tracing a fading bruise on his jaw. “Vegeta really did a number on you, huh?” she asks, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’ve always healed fast, but I think you’ll be flat on your back for at least another week.”

“Ahhh, well.” His speech is ever-so-slightly slurred from the drugs they’ve pumped into him, and he winces in pain as he forgets himself and shrugs his shoulder. “Shhh- _fuck._ Ouwwchh.”

She grins, barely holding back a laugh. “Shh. Go back to sleep,” she tells him. She brushes his face (because she can’t hold his hand – it’s trapped under the medical pod) until he falls asleep once more.

“See you when I get back,” she whispers to him.

 

**Leave**

The boys have left her again. Bulma shakes her head, staring up at the clouds in the green sky. Trust those guys to take off and abandon her on an alien planet! It pisses her off; for all that she does for her friends, they still treat her like she’s some secondary member of their group.

She sighs, tilting her head back higher, laughing when she spots a cloud that looks just like Son Goku’s hair. She stares at it longer, remembering the way he’d appeared at the Tenkaichi Budokai years ago, suddenly grown up and handsome as hell. She’d seen something in the way he looked at her that day, dark eyes more curious than ever; she felt something too – an attraction to him (who wouldn’t?) – and an annoying thought comes to her _again_ ; that she passed up something that could have been great.

“Maybe I blew it,” she mutters. The cloud starts to break apart. _Too late now_ , she thinks. _No point dwelling on it._

It’s the same mantra she’s repeated for years, ever since Goku and Chi Chi blindsided them all by their marriage.

 

**Semantics**

_“Takkaraput pop Porunga pupiritt paro!” Shamo su halalo megakita er, minas porunga Earth koros dus!”_

_Arise Porunga and grant me my wish! Send all the men, but the two fighting here, to Earth!_

High above the world of mortals, King Kai breathes a sigh of relief as Earthlings and Namekians alike are transported to Earth. The little Namekian made his wish in time, and only Goku and Frieza remain on the dying planet.

The Kai shakes his head. _Foolish boy._ But he knows there’s no use in dwelling on such things. Son Goku is too much of a Saiyan, incapable of running from a fight.

And so the Kai’s antennae twitch as he tunes into the events on Planet Namek once more. He gasps, spotting a flash of blue hair against the green grass of Namek, realising too late his mistake…

… there’s no Namekian word for _woman_.

 

**Quake**

The ground shakes beneath her, and lightning slashes through the air. Bulma screams, falling to the ground as the cliff behind her begins to crumble, boulders raining down around her.

She throws a capsule out in front of her, and scrambles to her feet. The ground lurches again as she clambers atop her hoverbike, the engine roaring to life. She flies forward, towards the storm, black clouds dark against the green sky. Goku is somewhere there in the heart of it _,_ and he’s her only hope of getting out of here alive.

 

**Listen**

Frieza doesn’t listen.

He tries, he _tries so hard_ , to give Frieza a second chance, but in the end the bastard won’t take it. It makes it easier, in a way, to destroy the monster, but it’s still disappointing. It’s a waste of a good opponent.

This whole battle has been a waste. His heart hurts from it all; all the animals and plants and living things that will die now, because of Frieza’s intent on taking the entire planet to the grave.

At least everyone else is safe. He heard the wish, and _somehow_ he knew what it meant. He may die on Namek – if he can’t find a spaceship in time – but his friends and the Namekians are back on Earth.

He’s hovering above Frieza’s ship when he hears a scream, and his heart sinks. _Bulma._

 

**Fragment**

The planet is falling to pieces beneath them, and all they can do is argue.

“Hurry! _Damn it!_ It’s gonna explode!”

“I’m _trying!_ This ship won’t work! The hull’s too far gone!”

“Shit!” He doesn’t usually swear, doesn’t usually raise his voice, but he’s panicked and angry and still filled with a bloodlust that scares him a little. Hell, he scared Bulma, and that’s a hard thing to do. He catches sight of himself in the reflection of the glass; a golden monster with glowing green eyes. He doesn’t recognise this person.

The ship lurches with a groan, and they’re falling suddenly as the ground opens up beneath them. He curses again and grabs Bulma, flying up and out, watching as Frieza’s ship dissolves into the spitting lava below.

“I don’t want to die,” she moans. “Goku, do something,” she pleads.

He shakes his head, defeated. And then he spots it – a white sphere, tumbling down through the fragmented rock, and he’s flying as fast as his Super Saiyan body will take them.

 

**Strange**

She shifts, trying to find purchase on the edge of the leather seat, but it’s no use, and she remains wedged against this strange new Goku. He’s covered in blood, his hair still glowing gold, and his green eyes so _alien_. Her eyes dance about his face, unable to focus anywhere or hold his gaze for too long. There’s too much to take in.

“I won’t hurt you.”

She offers him a weak smile. “I know. It’s just… you’re so different.” His skin his blazing hot; she can feel it through the fabric of her dress. At some point in the battle he lost his shirt, and with nowhere to go she sits pressed against his bare chest. She shifts again, trying to get comfortable, and feels the unmistakable hardness of his erection under her thigh. _Oh god._ It’s just bloodlust; she’s seen all the guys get boners after battle, but this situation is different. Desire curls down her spine, even as she lifts her leg ever so slightly so that she’s no longer brushing against _it_. He doesn’t react, holding himself very still, and she knows he’s trying hard to control this new body of his. Every now and then a tiny spark of electricity runs over his skin, sharp enough to sting and make her flinch.

His reflection glows in the small window of the pod. “Goku,” she whispers. “This transformation… can you… turn it off?”

“I…” he shakes his head, mouth opening and closing, before he finally closes his eyes. She holds still as he takes in a deep breath, and with a sigh he seems to shrink, the golden glow disappearing. His hair still stands on end, but it’s black, and in the same style as she’s always known.

He looks at her through tired eyes, and she breathes a sigh of relief at the gentle smile that graces his lips. “Oh Goku, it’s you.”

She frames his face with her hands, and he leans into her, until his forehead rests against hers. “Yeah, it’s _me_ ,” he breathes, and she’s never felt so relieved.


	2. It's Beautiful

**Now**

She wakes to an incessant beeping that fills her head, until she drags herself upright, groggy and confused. Her back is cramped, and she doesn’t know where the hell she is – just somewhere strange in the dark – until she realises that she’s in some sort of ball and that Goku is passed out beside her and _oh my god_ she’s still hurtling through space and Namek wasn’t a dream.

The beeping grows more shrill, louder and louder, lights flashing above her now. Light begins to filter through the small window, dim and first but growing brighter by the second, and she presses her face against the glass, ignoring Goku’s legs that sprawl in her way. Horror fills her gut as she sees the face of a bright yellow planet, the gears in her mind turning as she realises they’re heading straight for it.

She’s seen how these pods work before; they’re designed to crash. Her little human body is not designed to withstand such an impact. The planet looms closer, filling up the entire window now, and she groans, turning to slap at Goku’s chest. She needs him to save her again.

“Goku!” she screams, shaking his shoulders. “Goku!” He’s so fucking _heavy_ , and for a moment she fears that he’s dead, before his eyes begin to flutter open. “Wake up _now!_ ” she demands, crawling into his lap, straddling his legs, pressing her body as close to his as possible. His arms wrap around her – instinctively, she thinks – as the pod is surrounded by the most awful groaning and she knows that impact is only seconds away.

“Don’t let me die,” she pleads against his neck. His hand rests on the back of her head. There’s an almighty crash, and she knows no more.

 

**Soon**

“Goku.”

He opens his eyes, turning at the sound of his name, and finds one of the Yardrati hovering in the doorway to the small room they’ve given him. He can’t tell which one it is; he’s useless when it comes to remembering names, and they all look so similar, with their bright pink skin and wrinkled faces, but he smiles, regardless.

“Your friend will be waking soon,” the Yardrati says. “Follow me.”

He nods and uncrosses his legs, rising from where he’s been meditating on the floor. He follows after the Yardrati, down a flight of stairs into the cavernous underground maze they call home. More Yardrati scuttle around him, eyes filled with fear despite the grin he offers them. He can’t blame them; on this planet he’s a giant.

He ducks under another doorframe and finds himself in a makeshift hospital room. The Yardrati murmur quietly amongst themselves, but he ignores them, his eyes focused on Bulma. She’s asleep on the bed, her clothes still covered in the dust from Namek, a ton of wires hooking her up to various machines.

She looks so small.

He steps over to her, taking care not to jostle her as he sits on the edge of the bed. He cradles her hand in his, wishing he could have done a better job at taking care of her.

“Is she your mate?”

He looks at the Yardrati, the one he led him in here. _Mate._ He thinks about the word, and what it means on Earth. _No_ , he’s never done _that_ with her before, though he’s thought about it more than a few times. He’s supposed to only do that with his wife.

“No,” he replies quietly. “She’s not.”

When he looks back down at Bulma he realises she’s been watching him.

 

**Haze**

She squints as if it will help her see better in the dim light, her memory still hazy. But Goku is here, his presence comforting as she tries to piece together the fragments that she remembers. They were on Namek, in a ship… it was going to crash…

“Where are we?” she asks. It comes out in a croak, and she vaguely remembers screaming. Her head hurts.

“We’re on a planet called Yardrat. These people rescued us,” Goku answers, gesturing into the dark. She can vaguely make out creatures swaying in the corners of the room, and squeezes Goku’s hand tighter. They remind her of the goblins she used to fear as a child.

“What happened to the ship?”

“They’re repairing it. They said it’s going to take a while, but we can stay here.”

She closes her eyes. She’s awfully tired. The word _concussion_ drifts in and out of her mind. “It’s so dark in here,” she finally says, her eyes blinking open as Goku brushes a hand over her forehead, the warmth of it soothing her headache.

“The Yardrati don’t like the light. It hurts their eyes.”

“Hmm.” She closes her eyes again. Her eyes hurt too, but Goku’s hand on her forehead feels good.

“I’m sorry you got hurt, Bulma. I didn’t wake up in time.”

She forces her eyes open once more. “Don’t be sorry,” she whispers. “You just saved the universe, silly.” She lifts a hand to tug at his shoulder. “Stay here.” Her eyes close again.

The bed shifts beneath her, Goku’s comforting weight settling down beside her. She curls into the warmth and lets sleep carry her away.

 

**Rest**

The Yardrati doctors prescribe rest, and despite her best efforts, they enforce it regimentally, guarding the doors lest she escape. On the second day after waking they allow her to move into a bedroom beside Goku’s, and at her request they install another two lamps – glowing so dim that they’d be considered broken on Earth – so that she isn’t tripping over the rugs that line the dirt floor.

When she learns how far underground they are she’s mortified, and it is as if she can feel the weight of the mountain above them bearing down on her. But the Yardrati hold no such fears, and over time she begins to accept it, though being confined to her small room drives her insane.

Her only entertainment is Goku’s daily visit. They stretch out on her bed, and Goku describes the fight on Namek; the Ginyu force, Vegeta’s betrayal, how Goku felt when he was trapped inside the healing tank.

“It sounds like amazing technology,” she interjects. “Do you know what chemicals they used in there?”

Goku shoots her a sidelong look, a smile playing on his lips. “I wasn’t too focused on that at the time,” he replies. “Besides, you’re supposed to be resting your brain right now.”

“Ugh.”

Goku picks up the narrative again, and she’s caught up in the story – the fear he had for the others, the cruelty of Vegeta’s death. His voice cracks as he describes the moment Krillin died, and she reaches for his hand.

“I’ve never been so angry before,” he admits quietly. “The anger, the _hatred_ , that’s what made me transform, but Bulma… that kind of anger scares me.”

 She runs her thumb over the back of his hand. His skin has always been warmer than anyone else’s, and she wonders now if it’s a Saiyan thing. She still can’t quite wrap her head around the fact that he’s an alien; as alien as the Yardrati here.

“Anyone would have felt the same way,” she reassures him, but she knows he’s not listening.

 

**Work**

For the most part, the Yardrati stay underground where the water caves are, their huge eyes adapted to see in the dark. He has no trouble with the dark, either, but Bulma stumbles about in the dim light, cursing under her breath as they make their way up to the surface.

He catches her as she slips on another stair, ignoring her outbursts. When she does it the third time, hissing “Doesn’t anyone own a fucking torch around here!” he picks her up, slinging her over his shoulder and flying the rest of the way, up past another ten stories, until the cool air hits him in the face.

He squints against the light of the setting sun, and sets them both down on the edge of a cliff, where you catch the best views. Yellow desert and red rock spreads out as far as the eye can see, glowing in the light. Bulma huffs and adjusts the funny clothes they’ve given her, but he can see the tension slipping out of her shoulders. The sun dips below the horizon, and the first stars blink into view. He’s suddenly reminded of the first day he met Bulma, when they sat outside in front of a fire and cooked fish until it grew dark. There’s something about Bulma that is magnetic; there’s beauty in the way her eyes scan the horizon, in how you can tell that her mind is always working. He’s never met a more determined woman.

“I’m going to help them work on the ship,” she says, breaking the silence. “I don’t think they really know what they’re doing, and it’ll get us off of this planet a little faster. I miss home.”

He nods. “I miss Gohan,” he admits.

“He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, he really is.”

“And what about your wife?” Bulma’s voice is deceptively calm, but he knows her too well. There’s something _more_ in her voice. “Do you miss her?”

He should say yes. He can feel his heart rate increase, and shifts uncomfortably under her gaze.

He doesn’t say anything, and that says it all.

 

**Brood**

She finds Goku brooding in the bedroom they’ve given him, his brows drawn down in an uncharacteristic frown that tugs at her heart.

“Son,” she demands, sitting across from him on the bed, “tell me what’s wrong.”

He sighs, rubbing the back of his head in that nervous tick of his, though his smile looks more like a grimace. It’s hard to tell; there’s not enough light in this damn place, and it drives her insane.

“I’m not ready to leave,” he says, confirming what she’s already guessed, and her heart drops.

“Why not?” It comes out harsher than she means it. He laughs nervously, and she shakes her head. “Go _ku_ ,” she warns.

“I need to train.”

“ _Goku._ ”

“I’m _dangerous._ ” His tone is serious, harsh even. She’s never heard Goku like this before. “I don’t know how to control my transformation yet. I could kill us. I could kill _you._ The Master Yartrati said he could sense it. I need to train under him.”

She shakes her head, but she can’t beat that argument.

“How long?”

“A year.”

“ _Goku!_ I have a business to run back home.”

“I’ll try and learn faster, then. For you.”

She sighs, throwing her hands in the air. It’s pointless getting upset. Goku always wins.

 

**Friend**

Their trips to the planet surface have become a daily ritual that he looks forward too. When thinking about being a Saiyan and what _that_ means gets too much, it’s nice to sit in the company of his oldest friend and talk about old times.

Bulma looks up at the first few stars, sighing. “Things were so much simpler when we were kids.”

“Yeah.”

She laughs ruefully, lying back against the dry rock beneath them. He turns to look at her, and she meets his gaze, bright blue eyes full of mischief. “The shit we used to do,” she says, and then with a grin, “The shit _you_ used to do. Do you remember when I flashed Roshi my cooch because of you?”

He laughs, grinning. “Yeah. It was funny.”

“It was _not_ ,” she growls, but she’s laughing too, running a hand back though her hair. In the dimming light it looks like the colour of the lake at Mt Paozu, and he suddenly misses his home. They lapse into silence.

“How is the training going?” she asks much later, when the sky has turned black.

“Good.” He pauses. “Do you want to see?”

She nods, pushing herself off the ground. “Yeah, I do.”

 

**Blaze**

Goku steps away from her, and she shivers, more with nerves than the cold. He flashes her a reassuring grin – his teeth glow white in the light of the stars – and she nods. She’s ready.

The ground begins to tremble beneath her, and instinct tells her to run, but she holds her ground. The air smells of ozone, and static crackles in small flashes around him, his hair rising _up_ as if it has a life of its own.

And then he glows. It flashes on and off, his hair turning from black to gold to black again. There’s another crackle of electricity, and the Super Saiyan stands before her, his chest rising and falling with the effort.

A shiver runs down her spine. He’s never looked more alien, standing in Yardrati clothes, his hair glowing gold, his eyes that ethereal green that pierces the night. She’s seen it before, on Namek, but they were so panicked that she hardly took it all in. Now she has the time to really look at him, to become accustomed to this new Goku. He looks older, wiser somehow.

He looks dangerous.

He looks amazing.

_This_ is the hero that she dreamed of as a teenager. If she were to have made her wish, this is what she’d have hoped for. Here he was, under her nose the whole time.

She steps forward, reaching out a hand to touch his face. He flinches, static burning her fingers, and the gold light disappears in a flash. She’s blind again, unable to see more than just the shape of him, though she can hear the way he hisses between his teeth. She knows he’s scared of hurting her.

“Do it again,” she tells him.

“Bulma.”

She puts her hands on his shoulders. “Goku, I trust you. Do it again.”

The air around them crackles, surrounding them with light. Electricity runs up her arms, down her spine. She stares into those green eyes and thinks _I want him_ , and _No_ , and forces herself to step back.

She has to think about Yamcha, and Chi Chi.

She can’t go there.

 

**Seasons**

The rainy season hits Yardrat hard and the underground rivers swell, forcing the Yardrati to live in the higher levels of their man-made caves. For a week they are trapped underground, and water drips and leaks everywhere. The air is filled with the smell of damp soil, sometimes so strong that it chokes her. Her nightmares shift from the horrors of Namek to odd scenes that make no sense. She wakes one night, screaming, having dreamt that she was buried alive.

When the rains finally stop Goku takes her in his arms and flies her out of the cave. Her breath catches in her throat as they float above fields of green and blue and yellow, a rainbow of foliage and flowers. She’d mistakenly thought this was a barren land.

“All it needed was a bit o’ rain,” Goku comments, setting her down in their usual spot, now carpeted in green grass.

“Yeah,” she replies, eyes settling on Goku’s face, his lips pulled into a soft smile. It brings back memories of his boyish face at eighteen, the way he’d thought there was something wrong with her when she wore lipstick. His face is harder now, chiselled and battle worn.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, but she’s not talking about the landscape.


	3. It's Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating to explicit. Y'all know what that means. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

**Solve**

There’s something that’s been bothering her since they arrived on Yardrat. From the door of her bedroom she watches the Yardrati workers scuttle in and out of tunnels, moving food and goods down into the common areas. The sheer amount of goods they bring through is huge; enough to feed the whole colony, and yet she can’t quite work out where it’s all coming from. They must be walking for miles to bring it through, because there’s nothing around here that can produce all of that.

She decides to wait until the Yardrati are all at dinner. While they’re occupied, she wanders down to the tunnels, ducking her head under the small doorway (she only just fits standing upright) and stepping into the room.

There’s nothing there. It’s a dead end.

She turns around in the empty room, staring at the damp soil walls, her skin prickling. It doesn’t make sense – this is the tunnel the food was coming from.

She turns to leave when a Yardrati materialises in front of her. She screams, falling backwards against the wall behind her, and Goku appears too, seemingly out of thin air. She screams again, yelling “ _What the fuck!”_ and he grins down at her.

“Instant transmission!”

 

**Quarrel**

Bulma’s angry, and it’s his fault.

“You could have told me this is the real reason why you wanted to stay. I’m your friend. I deserve to know.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but she’s not finished yet.

“I mean, I travelled across the universe to help get our friends back; I put my career on hold for this, and all the times I’ve taken care of you as a kid and saved your skin with dragonballs and _wished you back to life_ , and this is how you repay me? By lying to me? Fucking instant _transmission?_ A _party trick?_ ”

“It’s an important technique,” he says defensively, the growl in his voice coming out full force. “I can have the upper hand in battle; I’ve got the element of surprise. And I still need to train more – being a Super Saiyan isn’t easy. It’s…” he trails off, unable to describe what he’s thinking.

“Volatile,” she finishes for him, and he can _feel_ the edges of her anger fraying, just a little.

He nods. “I feel like I could explode, and take the whole planet with me.”

He regrets saying that as soon as the words leave his mouth. She stares at him for a long time, and he can sense the edginess in her voice when she asks “And that’s okay to do to these people here, but not to the people of Earth?”

“ _No._ ” He’s offended that she’d think that of him. “The Yardrati know techniques that help, Bulma. I’m still training.”

Watching her fold her arms and tap her foot makes him feel like a kid again, like she’s telling him off again for pissing on the floor instead of the toilet, or forcing him to take a bath.

“I’m just…” she sighs, shaking her head, and he knows her anger is melting away. “I don’t know why you don’t tell me these things. I have a right to know.”

“I just didn’t think you’d care.”

She shakes her head again, staring at the ceiling. “I know. It’s the way you are. You do _you_ , and you don’t think about others.”

“Hey –”

“It’s the truth, Goku. You weren’t socialised enough as a kid. You _don’t. get. it._ ” She sighs again, throwing her arms in the air. She always gestures wildly when she’s upset. “Whatever. I’ll get over it, but we’re leaving before the year is up.” She steps forward, poking him square in the chest. “Got it?”

She leaves before he can think of a good reply. He knows telling her that he enjoys it here with her is a bad idea.

 

**Fit**

She’s frustrated, but there’s no point having a cry about it. She already agreed to staying on Yardrat – what does it matter that Goku was hiding the real reason why?

Because it just does.

A quarter way up the 12 flights of stairs, she begins to regret storming off in the direction of the surface. She’s not fit enough to make the climb without breaking into a sweat, but she’ll be damned if she goes back to face Goku now. She needs to blow off some steam.

Another three flights of stairs and she’s puffing and scuffing her boots on every second step. But she’s determined to make it to the top without tripping, and she keeps one hand on the cool wall to steady her as she winds her way up and up and up.

She’s sweating when she makes it to the top – she really needs to work on her fitness levels – and doubles over, breathing hard. When she finally rights herself she realises she’s not alone. Goku’s beat her here.

“How the hell...?”

“Instant transmission.”

“Oh, _fuck you_ ,” she hisses, collapsing on the ground. “If you knew you were going to follow me up here you could have given me a lift.” She glares up at Goku, who looks so forlorn it’s ridiculous, and a smile threatens to creep onto her lips. She can never stay mad at him for long.

“I’m sorry Bulma.”

She counts down slowly from sixty in her head. Let him sweat for a minute. With her eyes closed, she can still hear him shuffling his feet. The only time she’s ever seen him stay entirely still is when he’s meditating.

“Ugh. I _know_ you’re sorry,” she tells him when the minute is up. She winks at him, and receives a grin in return.

 

**Guess**

He sits beside Bulma, and watches her pick at a blade of yellowed grass. Now that the rainy season is over, the plants are beginning to die again, and the lakes are beginning to dry up. The days have grown hot again – too hot to stay up on the surface for long – but the nights are still cool.

The setting sun catches on Bulma’s hair, so that he can see all the different shades in it, blues and greens, with streaks of violet too. She’s the prettiest girl he’s ever known, her delicate face and intelligent eyes hiding her vicious tongue. Her cheeks are still flushed from the climb, and he can smell the musk of her sweat. He likes it.

“So how does it work?” she asks suddenly.

“How does what work?” He pulls of his boots, wiggling his bare toes in the grass. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

“ _Instant transmission_.” She’s still bitter about it, he can tell. “Do you just take a guess and _violá_ , you’re there, where you want to be?”

He shakes his head. “You have to focus on someone’s ki, and that’s where you go. You appear next to that person. That’s why the Yardrati use the tunnels; they put the person with the highest ki in there and everyone else can find them and bring the food and stuff through.”

“So you focused on my ki to get up here?” She draws her knees up, curling her arms around her legs and peering at him through the curtain of her hair.

“Yeah.”

Her blue eyes narrow suspiciously. “But my ki is weak. The scouter measured me at _five_. How can you –”

“I can always sense you.” Sometimes, he speaks without thinking. This is one of those moments, where he wishes he can suck the words back up again, because the way she looks at him, with pity in her eyes, burns in his chest.

He doesn’t want her feeling sorry for him.

 

**Innocence**

There’s an innocence to Goku that never leaves him, even when he’s fighting. It’s a trait that she’s always admired as something quaint about him; this country-bumpkin boy who never quite grew up, despite running off and getting married and having a kid.

But when he turns those innocent eyes on her and tells her that he can always sense where she is, well, it raises a lot of questions.

It sets her heart racing, too.

“Son-kun,” she says quietly, choosing her words carefully. “Why me?”

He shakes his head, turning away. She reaches out, placing her hand on his shoulder. He’s tense under her touch, and she knows they’re both on dangerous ground here.

Because it’s become pretty obvious over the past few months that Goku has feelings for her. The hard thing is that she feels the same way. She’s pushed it away; she’s always pushed it away, ever since she saw him as an eighteen year old boy at the tournament. Suddenly seven years seems like a lifetime ago.

“Goku, talk to me.”

He’s uncharacteristically silent. She feels as if she is standing on the edge of the abyss, wondering whether to step off or fall back and retreat.

She’s always been a girl who takes risks.

“Fine. I’ll talk and you can listen.” She feels sick. She pulls her hand back, because touching him somehow feels wrong.

“I…” she pauses, chews at her bottom lip, struggling to put all her thoughts into words. “I don’t want to ruin a marriage. I’m not going to. But I want you to know that… if you weren’t married, I’d…” she trails off as he turns to face her, those dark eyes filled with longing. Oh, she’s corrupting this angel.

“You’d what?”

She digs her nails into her legs to stop herself from reaching out to him. “I’d love you,” she says, knowing all too well that she’s broken a cardinal rule.

He’s silent for a moment, dark eyes brooding as he studies her. She flushes under his gaze.

“I thought you already loved me,” he says. “Your aura –”

“I would _make love_ to you,” she clarifies. His eyes widen in shock, but she sees the desire there too, the way his eyes dart to her lips and back. They’re both falling and she should be sorry.

She’s not.

 

**Measure**

He pulls his gaze away from Bulma, because he needs to think about this, needs to process what she is saying.

_She wants me._

He can smell it on her too. His cock stirs, and he’s thankful for the baggy pants the Yardrati have given him to wear.

He wants her. He’s wanted her for years, for longer than he even realised. He’s wanted her since before he knew what marriage was, since before he truly understood the meaning of the commitment that he was making.

He stares at the horizon but he doesn’t see it. In his mind he sees his wife, a woman he cares for. But if he had to measure how she makes him feel against the way Bulma excites him, Chi Chi would always lose.

He gets up, afraid to look Bulma in the eye. “Can you make your way back by yourself?”

“Yeah. Goku, I –”

He doesn’t wait for her to finish, and dives off the edge of the mountain, flying fast, cutting through the air until there’s half a planet’s distance between them.

He can still sense her.

 

**Strings**

Goku doesn’t return, not even for breakfast the next morning, and she picks at her plate, ignorant to all the chatter of the Yardrati in the mess hall around her. Though she’s grown comfortable in their presence, she’s kept to herself for the most part, working on the ship alone, learning the Standard alphabet and reading through their files.

“Your mate is not here today.”

She looks up to find an elderly Yardrati female sitting across from her. She smiles weakly. “He’s not my mate. He’s married to another woman.”

“Ah,” the woman nods, clicking her tongue. “Hmm, but he’s tied to you.”

Bulma shakes her head. “No. To another.”

“No, to _you_. We Yardrati see the strings. He’s tied, with red hot strings – he’s tied to you.” The Yardrati’s eyes glow yellow in the dim hall, widening as she leans forward. “It’s _fate._ ”

“No.” She pushes her chair back from the table.

“You can’t cut it!” the woman calls after her. “The strings will tie you always!”

She returns to her room. She hasn’t eaten, but she’s not hungry.

 

**Need**

He knocks once and steps though without waiting for her answer. He’s caught her off guard; she brushes back strands of blue hair and closes the book on her lap with a snap. From her seat on the bed her eyes watch him carefully.

“I was starting to get worried. Five days is a long time here – there’s nothing to do.”

He shrugs in an apology. “I needed time to think.”

She nods, dropping her book on the ground and sitting up straighter. She’s waiting for him to speak, but he’s suddenly tongue-tied. The one time he’s ever rehearsed anything, and he can’t even say it. _I want to love you. I don't want to leave here without knowing what it is between us._

“How much longer will we be on this planet?” she asks. “How long until you’re satisfied that you won’t implode and take the world with you?”

He doesn’t know. “Six months,” he answers, sticking with the original timeframe they agreed upon. She nods, uncrossing her bare legs so that her feet dangle off the edge of the bed. He can’t help but want her, his eyes darting to the shadow of her nipples through her white nightgown. He wants to know what she tastes like.

“Six months.” She purses her lips in thought. “Six months to get it out of our system, and then pretend like it never happened.”

He must look confused. She rises until she’s kneeling on the bed, her arm outstretched as she gestures for him. “Come here. I want you. I need you. Come.”

He reaches the edge of the bed and she places her hands on his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as she looks up at him. “Six months Goku, and then we go back to normal. You go back to… her. Deal?” He blue eyes are pleading with him now.

He doesn’t want to go back, ever. “Deal,” he says, and leans forward.

 

**Wrap**

The way he looks at her, desire burning in those dark eyes, washes away the last of her resolve. She makes a deal with him, and they’ll worry about the consequences later.

_He should have been mine first._

When he kisses her she finds his lips are far softer than she ever imagined them to be. She tilts her head back further, moaning into his mouth as his arms wrap around her and pulls her closer, his hands splaying across the curves of her ass, his erection pressing hard against her.

She runs her tongue over his teeth, murmurs his name between breaths, and buries her hands in that thick hair. He kisses her with a passion usually reserved for battle, and in it she can sense the sheer power of him, held in check. Here is her god of war, blazing in her arms.

Her head falls back as he trails lingering kisses over her jaw and neck, and she trusts that he will hold her. His hands skim up and down her body, thumbs tracing the curve of her breasts through the thin fabric of her nightdress. She runs her hands over his wide shoulders and down his back, finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it free from his pants. He steps back, panting, dark eyes filled with lust as he tugs his shirt off and unwraps his belt.

She watches him undress, enjoying the sight of his body, tall and muscular and undoubtedly sexy. The dim light throws shadows over every muscle; he is perfect in every way, and she has never been more turned on in her life. His pants drop to the floor; he steps back, and she bites at her lower lip, her fingers itching to touch him. Her eyes linger on his jutting erection; thick and oh so _big_ , she surprises herself by leaning forward to claim it with her mouth, humming around him as he moans her name.

When she releases him he pulls her up until she’s standing on the edge of the bed. His lips brush at her ear. “Do you trust me?” he asks, and a shiver runs down her spine.

“With my life,” she answers without hesitation.

The lights go out with a _pop_ that makes her jump, but he holds her close, his tongue sliding across her throat. She can’t see a thing as his mouth trails lower, hovering over the swell of her breast.

“Goku, did you do that?” He laughs softly, and she shivers against him. She remembers, of course, that he can still see in this darkness. She usually hates to lose control, but there’s something incredibly sexy about being at his mercy here.

“You did say you trusted me,” he whispers, echoing her thoughts.

“I did. I do.”

“You are perfect.” It’s a soft murmur against her skin, and the straps of her gown slide off her shoulders. It pools at her feet. His mouth closes over her nipple.

She gasps, and then gasps again because his fingers slip beneath her panties, running over her clit. She bucks against him and he slips a finger inside and _oh. Oh._ “Please,” she begs.

It’s all the permission he needs. Her panties are gone within seconds, torn away to be replaced by his mouth. Her knees buckle but he catches her, lowering her back on the bed, his tongue swirling about her navel, then lower, until he’s tasting her core and she’s crying his name, and _oh Goku_ , she’s never felt so good. Her hands are buried in his thick hair and her legs are trembling. She comes against his mouth, gasping, stars dancing beneath her eyelids.

When he rises above her she runs her hands across his chest, over his back, and revels in the feel of him as he enters her. She is _full_ , gloriously so, and _she loves him_ , she always has and she always will. She can’t quite bear to say it – it is the final taboo – so she clutches at him, around him, kissing him as if the world will end tomorrow.

He lifts her as if she weighs nothing, his arms strong around her as he strokes into her again and again, their bodies pressed so close. She kisses him again, tongue against teeth, and when he moans her name against her lips and comes _hard_ within her, it is the most glorious sound she has ever heard.


	4. It's Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, sorry about the delay. I took a break from fandom again, and it turned into a longer absence than I had expected. I also lost confidence with this fic, but now that I've come back to it I'm pretty happy with where it is going. The current word count for the whole thing is 16,700 odd words, but I'm now estimating it will get to 20,000 once I add in the odd segment to tie everything together.

**Awareness**

She’s beginning to feel like the old Yadrati woman was right; there’s something that ties her to Goku, something that has her heart racing every time he walks in the room. She is hyper-aware of everything he does. She is _obsessed_ with him.

She can’t help it.

He shows her a side to him she only ever caught glimpses of before. He hunts her down and steals her away, flying them across the planet to an oasis he’s managed to find. Under the starlight they swim naked in the lake there, his ki curling around her to keep her warm, and when they’re done he fucks her brains out in the cool air, their breath misting in the breeze. She screams his name when she comes.

She lays atop him, her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as his big hands stroke her back, calloused fingers tickling her gently. She feels at peace. She is happy. She tells him so.

“I know,” he replies softly. “I can feel it; your aura glows when you’re happy like this. It’s my favourite thing. You’re my favourite thing.” He laughs, but there’s an element of self-depreciation in his voice as he says, “I guess I sound silly, huh?” It hurts her to hear it; she knows now just how aware he is that people often think he’s unintelligent.

“No,” she tells him firmly, lifting her head to look into his dark eyes. “It’s not silly at all. You’re my favourite person, too,” she adds softly, feeling her cheeks burn. She has to look away before she says too much, so she distracts herself by planting kisses across his chest. He smells amazing. He tastes amazing. She runs her hands over his body and down his arms. “Every part of you is perfect,” she tells him, and she means every word. _I love all of you_ , she wants to say.

His arms curl around her in a tight cocoon, and his voice cracks as he whispers her name, and it is as if he has read her mind.

 

**Animal**

He will never get enough of her. Every night he falls into her arms, buries himself inside her, tastes every inch of her skin. Sex with Bulma is better than he ever dreamed of and more than he could have ever hoped for. She finds his tail scar and brings out the animal in him, but she never fears him, only ever pushing for more.

“Give me all of you,” she whispers in his ear when he has her up against the bathroom wall, her core clenching around him, and he loses it, stroking into her hard, her ass slapping against the tiles until they both come and collapse in a tangle on the floor.

Bulma, the first girl he ever met. He never imagined he would do this with her, and yet is seems so right.

They both ignore the fact that it is so wrong.

 

**Swift**

She watches him train under the master Yardrati, admiring the way he moves through his kata, the way he flies through the air with ease. For a big man he’s surprisingly graceful, though every now and then she catches a glimpse of the Saiyan in him – raw and uninhibited power, aggression as he spars with the Yardrati warriors. She thinks back and realises it’s always been there; she just didn’t see it until his brother came crashing into their lives and turned their world upside down.

She loves watching him transform, and as the months pass his transformation comes easier. She can see it now, the difference that training has made to him, and although he refuses to have sex with her in his transformed state (“ _I would kill you!”_ he says), he lets her kiss this Super Saiyan version of him, his hands roaming her body cautiously. The electricity is like nothing she’s ever felt before.

He no longer fears the Super Saiyan he’s become, and she realises that he’s accepted what he is.

They talk about Saiyans, about what they know and don’t know, comparing stories from their childhood, things that now make sense because _of course_ he’s an alien. It turns out he’s always been able to smell when she’s turned on, and after getting over the initial embarrassment of his admission she finds that it’s not such a bad ability for him to have.

He makes love to her whenever they have the chance, sometimes quick and rough, at other times slow and gentle, his eyes roaming her body as he thrusts into her, as if he’s memorising what he sees. She asks him about it and he smiles and admits that he’s always thought of her when he’s ‘helped himself’, and she is both embarrassed and aroused to know he’s masturbated to thoughts of her for so many years.

They share a bed, and only occasionally does the severity of their situation grip her, guilt clawing at her chest in the middle of the night because she’s _his mistress_ and _shit_ , how is she ever going to be able to look Chi Chi in the eyes again?

Despite that, she’s happy. They’re on an adventure again, like when they were kids, sleeping out under the stars, staying up all night, doing whatever they want.

But all adventures have to come to an end.

 

**Threat**

Goku has always been a heavy sleeper – it’s something she’s known since she was a kid. So when she wakes in the night to find him lying rigid beside her, she knows something’s wrong, despite the fact that she can’t see a thing.

“Goku,” she whispers, shifting onto her side to face him. She lays a hand on his chest under the covers, and finds his heart beating faster than it should. “What’s the matter?”

“Frieza.”

“What? He’s dead. It’s just a dream. Go to sleep.”

“No. He’s alive. I can sense him. And he’s _strong._ ”

She shakes her head, even as a chill runs down her spine. “It’s not possible. The planet was destroyed – we left him there. He’s dead!”

She feels rather than sees Goku shake his head. He shifts away from her, and she hears the sound of him dressing in the dark.

“Goku!” She’s worried now. “What –”

“There’s one way to find out if he’s really back.”

“It’s the middle of the night; what are you going to do? You can’t…” she trails off, realising what he means to do. “No. Goku, _no_. _Don’t_ –” But the electric sound that accompanies his instant transmission technique fills the room, and she’s left alone, fuming.

He’s back within a minute, landing on top of her, and she doesn’t know whether to yell or cry or scream. “What the fuck were you thinking!” she hisses in the dark. “Goku!”

But he’s tense, his body rock hard, his skin cold under her hands. “Goku?”

“He’s alive. He’s still on some sort of life support machine, but he’s alive. I saw him. They’re rebuilding his body.”

“What does that mean?”

She can’t see a thing, but she can feel the anticipation rising in him. He can never turn down the possibility of a battle, and it fills her with dread. “I’m going to have to fight him. On Earth.”

 

**Empire**

The Yardrati are well resourced, it seems. It doesn’t take long for them to find the information they need through their contacts hidden in the Cold Empire.

She sits, frozen, as she listens to the Yardrati General who has come to see them.

“Frieza lives. He wants to kill the Super Saiyan.”

The hospitality the Yardrati have shown them both finally makes sense; they’re betting on Goku to defend them from the Cold Empire.

“You are our warrior,” the General claims, staring at Goku. “You must go to Earth and save us all.”

Goku nods. She can see the prospect of battle excites him now, but all she feels is anger. Goku’s the saviour for two planets now, and for the Kais as well. For the first time it dawns on her just how much of a pawn he is in the hands of those who need his strength – and she’s partly to blame too; he was her pawn first, back when she was sixteen – and she wonders how many battles he can win before he loses.

No one wins all the time. How many years will it take for him to lose his life again fighting other people’s battles?

 

**Heaviest**

“How long until Frieza reaches Earth?” Bulma asks, and he closes his eyes, waiting for the answer.

“48 Yardrati days,” the General replies. “For you to reach the Earth on time, you must leave in your ship soon.”

“In three days,” Bulma says, and he feels her fingers dig into his arm where she clutches him. She’s done the calculations in her head, and he knows she’s got it right. She’s never wrong.

She turns to him, blue eyes filled with worry. “Could you use instant transmission to get us to Earth?”

It’s risky. He hasn’t carried another person over such a distance before.

He’s not ready to leave this place yet.

“Yes,” he tells her. “We don’t need to leave yet. We can stay until Frieza reaches Earth.” _Yet._ His heart feels heavy, the heaviest it’s ever been. He _wants_ to fight Frieza, but… he doesn’t want to leave here at all.

That night he makes sure to taste every inch of her skin, to commit every moan and breathy sigh to memory, because once they leave Yardrat they can never do this again. She wraps herself around him and he bites at her neck, softly so that he doesn’t leave a mark, but enough to say to her _you’re mine_. She feels so good and tight around his cock, and he wants to stay here forever.

She rides him, her body perfection as she moves above him, bending to brush her lips against his ear as she whispers those forbidden words. “I love you, Son Goku.”

He loves her too. He always has. He always will.

But he loves his son in a way that is somehow _more_ – a way that only a parent could understand – and he made a promise to his wife all those years ago.

And he promised Bulma, too, that they would end this when they left Yardrat.

 

**Verbal**

They have a verbal contract. Thinking about it in business terms helps her deal with it. “After today we will _never_ speak of what happened on Yardrat again.”

“Okay.”

She can’t meet his eye, despite the fact that she just finished having the most passionate sex with him two hours ago. It hurts too much to think about.

They’ve showered and dressed in new clothes, and he assures her that no human will be able to pick up the lingering scents on their bodies.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

 _No_ , she thinks. “Yes,” she tells him.

She takes his hand. The world blurs around them in a rainbow of fluorescent light, and then…

They’re standing in the desert, and two figures float above them, one glowing gold. “That’s another Super Saiyan,” she says, looking to Goku for confirmation. His expression is serious, wary. A moment later, Frieza is blown to bits before their eyes.

 

**Sweet**

The Super Saiyan is only really a boy, who blushes when she find him staring and winks at him. It’s sweet, really, even when he turns all serious and asks Goku for a private conversation.

She tries to keep an eye on what they’re up to in the distance, but is distracted by all the questions thrown her way. She keeps to the script; they were trapped, the space ship damaged _beyond repair_ on a planet with only rudimentary technology, but Goku was able to learn this new technique and get them off the planet.

“And how convenient it was that Kakarot learnt this technique just in time to see Frieza.”

She turns to find Vegeta eyeing her suspiciously. She doesn’t even know what he’s doing here. If her parents have offered him a place to stay at her house she’ll lose her shit.

“Lucky timing, I guess. I mean, by time Goku was ready to test it out, Frieza was here. He was the only one with a power level high enough to sense from that far away.”

She grins as Vegeta bristles in response.

 

**Jealous**

“Bulma is my mother.”

The statement catches him off guard completely, stunning him, turning his tongue to lead. “What?” he finally asks, while the boy – Trunks – stares at him. This is not the reaction the kid was expecting, that’s for sure.

“Bulma is my mother.”

He looks the teenager up and down. He’s a Saiyan. Bulma’s his mother. He can hear his heart thundering in his ears. “Who… who is your father?” he asks, his chest swelling with hope, his gut filling with dread.

_Is he my son?_

“Vegeta.”

He stares at the boy, unable to think, to process, what he’s just said.

“Goku, are you okay? I –”

“ _Vegeta_ is your father?”

“Yes.”

“ _Vegeta_. Over there?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s a bit grumpy… but my mom and Yamcha break up not long from now and, well… you know.”

Yes, he knows how babies are made. _Fuck._

“Please don’t tell them, or I won’t be born! They have to find their way to each other by themselves.”

He shakes his head, unable to believe it. He looks over to where she’s standing in her Yardrati clothes, her blue hair shining like a beacon in Earth’s sunlight. _Vegeta._ He’s just given up the most beautiful woman in the universe, and now she’ll have a kid with Vegeta.

_Bastard._

 

**Flat**

“So it’s settled. We will meet at 9am on … on the island nine miles southwest of South City.”

She nods, feeling flat. She doesn’t even have the energy to be angry anymore about the fact that the men – Goku included – didn’t want to use the dragonballs to avoid the upcoming fight.

Piccolo flies away first, then Tien. Gohan tugs at his father’s hand, and she sees Goku hesitate as he turns to look at her. Her heart beats faster, and she hopes nothing odd shows on her face.

Goku opens and closes his mouth, frowns a little, and finally says, “See ya in three years, Bulma.”

“See ya.”

She doesn’t watch him fly away. “What was that about?” Krillin asks. She can see Yamcha staring at her out of the corner of her eye. She ignores them both.

“Let’s go,” she says, and then, “Please tell me someone brought a plane with them. I really don’t want to be stranded.”

 

**Cynical**

He sits on his bed and smiles at his wife. “I’m glad to be back, Chi Chi.”

She undresses before him, helps him undress too, and straddles him with practiced ease. “Are you?” she asks, and there’s something lingering there in her gaze that makes him feel as if he’s made of glass, and she can see right through him.

He flips them over and buries his head in her hair. She smells like jasmine; she’s put perfume on for him. Another pang of guilt crosses him, and he pushes it away, focusing instead on pushing into her.

He fucks her mechanically, imagining another woman underneath him, and comes quickly. “Uh… sorry,” he pants, rolling off of her. The room is quiet apart from their laboured breaths, and he thinks Chi Chi is going to let it go until…

“Tell me that I can trust you.”

“What?”

“I’ve always had faith in you, but now I realise I should have been more cynical. You’re just like so many men.”

“Chi Chi –”

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

He stares at the ceiling. He is made of glass. “Yes.”

“You _bastard_ ,” she says. He reaches towards her shoulder –

“ _Don’t_ touch me,” she growls, and he pulls back. They lie, side by side, and neither of them sleep.

“You forgot,” she says some time in the middle of the night, “that I am your _wife_ , and that _I know you,_ and I can see every lie from a mile away.”

“I am sorry,” he whispers. “I am.”

Silence spreads between them once more, but she’s not asleep. He can hear her uneven breaths; she’s crying silently, and the weight of guilt feels like it will crush him to death.

“Is it over?” Chi Chi asks. “Or are you going back to her tomorrow?”

“It’s over.”

“How can I believe that?”

“It’s _definitely_ over. The kid from the future even told me that today.”

“The Super Saiyan from the future. The one with blue eyes and purple hair?” she questions. He wishes that Gohan hadn’t explained it in so much detail. He could see then that Chi Chi was beginning to think things. She shakes her head, the pillow rustling beneath her. “He’s your son to her, isn’t he?”

His fists clench until he can feel his nails digging into his palms. He’s made another promise, now, to let that child be born, and it goes against every instinct he has. He wants to fly to Bulma and fuck her until it’s his child that she gives birth to.

“No. It’s Vegeta’s. You can’t say anything. If you do that kid won’t be born.” And there will be no reason for him to keep his promise.

“I won’t say a _word_ ,” Chi Chi whispers, and the words feel like a cage around him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, this is my attempt to fit Goku x Bulma into the canon universe, without doing away with any characters or changing the plot of DBZ significantly. Having written this, I think that I'll be writing more Gobul in the future, in full AU settings where I don't have to worry about their existing relationships. But for this story I have to warn you that there is infidelity. I think most Gobul fans will accept this, based on the other fics I've read. Now, I really love Vegebul, and while I don't love the Goku x Chi Chi pairing quite as much, I do appreciate it, so I promise you this fic will not bash either of those pairings. It will, however, make the most out of existing flaws in the relationships between characters.


End file.
